


Conversations With Outcasts

by orphan_account



Series: Candy Shop Blues [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, OC: candy store owning Mr Barlow, dialogue only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>From birth until adulthood, Mr. Barlow owned that candy store in the Beacon Hills mini-red-light district that you visited each month. He made you full of peppermint eyes and licorice smiles and lollipop fingers in all the worst and best ways. You remember him for the candy when he remembered you for your face. </em>
</p><p>The first of the Candy Store Kids is Stiles Stilinski. </p><p>Black magic, meteor showers, and falling up were the words of his mentor.</p><p>Dialogue-only, their story through 18 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations With Outcasts

**Author's Note:**

> I am so terrible at summaries. I can't even tell you. Omg.
> 
> Hope you like! I figure if this is perceived alright, I'll do a series of stand-alone series.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Picks up around Eight Years Old.~~

One Year Old.

"..."

"You're a cute little kid."

"..."

"The name's Mr. Barlow. I hope to see you in my store again, Son-of-Stilinski."

"..."

"I guess that's close enough to a pinky promise."

"..."

 

Two Years Old.

"Gagabloogug."

"Well, if isn't Stilinski the Younger! How are you?"

"Mama..."

"Mama went to use the potty, honey. She'll be right back out. I'd sneak you some Razzles while you're waiting out on here on the sales counter, but somehow I think Melanie would disapprove."

"Gagabral! ...heh."

"Apparently, I didn't emphasize sales counter enough. You're taking up cashier space, kid."

"Uhmdilag."

"... Yeah, you're totally cooler than them." 

 

Three Years Old.

"Razzles!"

"Well, ain't we just so bossy today. Where're your manners, kid?"

"Mommmma."

"Attention, Stilinski! Manners."

"Razzles!"

"Please."

"Razzles, momma!"

"I'm waiting."

"..."

"..."

"Please!"

"Now, Mel! That's cheating! You can't whisper to him what to do!"

"Yummmm."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

 

Four Years Old. 

"Razzle-razzly-razzles!"

"Harumph. Magic word?"

"Abwacadabwah!"

"Geez, Melanie! You been teaching him black magic?! I feel suddenly forced to hand over these Razzles, free of charge."

"Tank you!"

"Oh, now we use the normal magic."

"Chewy!"

"He's learned another basic food word, Mel! My influence is amazing. ... Nuh-uh, I taught him that. ...Shush it, you."

 

Five Years Old.

"Now, come on. Recite your alphabet and you get Razzles. You don't wanna be behind the other pre-schoolers!"

"No! Please, Razzles?"

"At least count to thirty."

"Please please pleasepleaseplease."

"Stilinski, please. I'm not falling for puppy dog eyes."

"..."

"..."

"Take your goshdarned candy."

 

Six Years Old. 

"Mr. Barlow! Extra Razzles?"

"Extra? With you around? Nice try."

"... Razzles for me, please?"

"You know, one of these days, I oughta make you pay for these things."

"But you're the best!"

"Don't I know it... Here, kid."

"Thank you, Mr. Best!"

"Ha. Cheeky little booger."

 

Seven Years Old.

"I think that teachers are dumb. All of them."

"And why would that be, oh wonderful youngster?"

"They took my Razzles."

"Why, heaven forbid! I've run out of them."

"... Nuh-uh! Liar!"

"Ha! Had you thinking 'bout it for a second!"

"Please, Mr. Barlow?"

"You'd think by now, I'd learn my lesson. Look away before the black magic eyes start up."

"What's black magic?"

"Bad magic."

"Why is it bad?"

"It just is. Now chew your Razzles."

 

Eight Years Old. 

"Do you think they have Razzles in heaven?"

"I think that if Melly wants them, they'll sure as heck be there."

"Is she there because of the bad magic?"

"What? No, not the black magic. She's there because she was sick and lost her fight."

"But everyone talked about how strong Mom was."

"Sometimes your opponent is stronger, Stilinski. You just can't let them knock you down."

"But Mom let them knock her down!"

"No. Melly did the opposite. She fought them head-on every single day until the enemy got a lucky hit."

"So she fell down anyway."

"... She fell up."

"You can't fall up."

"And people tell me I can't give away free candy. But somehow I do that!"

"Cancer isn't like candy."

"Maybe not from your point of view."

"Is cancer black magic then?"

"We talked about this."

"You didn't say yes or no."

"No. No, it's not. Black magic is a joke, kid."

"...Can I have the Razzles, please?"

"Eat one for Mel, for me."

"That's weird."

"She was weird."

 

Nine Years Old. 

"I met a new friend today, Mr. Barlow!"

"Wow. And I thought that we would be Best Friends for Life."

"We are! But Scott can be my Best Friend That's a Kid."

"Or your BFF."

"But that's Best Friend Forever..."

"So?"

"That's a real long time, Mr. Barlow."

"Well, if it's a real good friendship..."

"But we just met."

"...Missing the point."

"We can't be BFFs yet!"

"But you told _me_ about him, so obviously he's BFF material."

"He heard dad call me Stiles and then said it and now everyone's saying it."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"... I like it."

"...Missing the point, again."

"Mom never called me that."

"Stilinski, you can't feel guilty about that."

"No... But I feel kind of lonely."

"...Here. Take an extra pack of Razzles to share with Scott."

"Thanks. ... His dad is missing."

"Missing?"

"Not there. I don't know. But it makes him kind of like me."

"Stiles, there is no one quite like you."

 

Ten Years Old. 

"I told you I'm too old for childish candy."

"You're ten and they're Razzles."

"No."

"Fine. Take a dollar."

"No."

"... Seriously?"

 

Eleven Years Old.

"Mr. Barlow, what's a homicide?"

"Another word for murder. Who was talking about it?"

"The vet. He said something about it to this teenage kid."

"Oh? Dr. Deaton?"

"Yeah. I think he called the teenager Derek..."

"Derek Hale? He comes in here sometimes. Sweet kid."

"Does he get free Razzles?"

"Kid, please. You're special."

"You're specialererer."

"... Yeah, you work on that."

Twelve Years Old.

"My dad is stupid."

"Your dad is standing on the other side of the store and can hear us."

"Good. He told me no more free Razzles. He said we should pay."

"Your dad's dumb."

"I know, right?"

"Here, take a second pack for him as well."

"You're a star, Mr. Barlow!"

"You're a meteor shower, Stilinski."

 

Thirteen Years Old.

"Girls? Suck."

"Are we talking about a specific one or just in general? Also, metaphorically or innuendo-ly?"

"Wow, Mr. Barlow."

"That's not an answer."

"Lydia Martin."

"Ooooh. Yeah. Good luck with any of the Martin's. Tried to flirt with the mom once, not knowing she was a mother or married. I think I still have the bruises."

"But this is _Lydia_ Martin, y'know?"

"I really don't know. But take a pack of Razzles to assist in your female-pursuing-adventures."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. B."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

 

Fourteen Years Old.

"So."

"So."

"Black magic? You sure it's just a joke?"

"Nope."

"Wait, what?"

"What?"

"No, wa-"

"Razzles?"

 

Fifteen Years Old.

"..."

"Day 365 of my solitude."

"..."

"I think I must be hearing things. And seeing things. But could it be? Could Stiles Stilinski really be in my store after all this time alone?"

"..."

"Alas! It seems to be but a mirage."

"Harhar."

"Where ya been, boy?"

"Busy."

"Fifteen year olds need Razzles to grow."

"Sure."

"It's true. Here."

"Thanks. Bye."

"Oh... kay. Day 366. Just an hallucination it seems."

 

Sixteen Years Old.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Barlow."

"Take some Razzles."

"Dude, I've ditched you for like 18 months and still get free Razzles? I've broken all the bro-codes!"

"Bro. Yo so chill. We good, man. We good."

"Okay, you can stop that."

"I realz don't think I can, foo."

"Realz?"

"Fo sho."

"... Have you noticed anything weird in Beacon Hills?"

"Um, no. Apart from the normal."

"Have you ever considered mountain ash wood for your new windows and doors?"

"Noooo... Stiles, what are you on about?"

"I don't really know what's going on right now but... It's kind of a scary place to be."

"California?"

"My own head."

"I feel ya, bruddah."

"I'll be back soon. I pinky promise this time."

"Scout's honor. We shall have Razzles in stock."

Seventeen Years Old.

"Hey, Mr. Barlo-!"

"Don't 'Hey, Mr. Barlow' me. What's this I hear about you and Derek Hale?"

"Wh-? No, tha-! We're _not_ a... a _thing._ "

"Woah, now. I'm just pickin', chicken. Don't lay an egg! But it seems like someone _wants_ it to be a thing."

"No fair. Jedi candy store owning mind tricks don't work on me."

"Black magic, Stiles."

"Don't think we're done with this discus- Damnit!"

"Ha! So tell me why people are saying the Sheriff caught him sneaking through your window."

"Because black magic. You said it yourself."

"You're not funny, Stiles."

"I'm hilaaarious. But seriously. Give me an extra pack of Razzles. Derek loves them."

"Hm. And I wonder why you're interested."

"Real cute. No."

"I've heard giving him a blowjob is a sure-fire way to get him to notice him."

"You're a monstrosity."

"And you're a meteor shower."

Eighteen Years Old.

"H-hi, Mr. Barlow."

"..."

"Derek's here with me... Your advice worked. Ha!" 

"..." 

"Y-you obviously can't see but I winked excessively after that."

"..."

"I'd offer you some Razzles... But y'know... I have them here with me and all. A fresh pack."

"..."

"They've changed the design since last time I was here. You wouldn't like it."

"..."

"Too black magic-y."

"..."

"Is that what killed you, Mr. Barlow? Black magic?"

"..."

"They said it was the alcohol."

"..."

"I didn't know you drank so much. At least to me you were perfect. No wonder people always said that Barlow's Tricks and Treats was a catastrophe."

"..."

"Run by an alcohol addict giving out free candy to every kid on the block. You said I was special, y'know?"

"..."

"Yeah, I know. You said it yourself. Only me. Only me with Razzles at least."

"..."

"That was always funny to me. Especially if you've seen 13 Going on 30. Razzle red or tongue red, amirite? Ha."

"..."

"They say that when you drink your soul starts to die. I don't know who they are but they don't really know anything do they. If under-age sex doesn't blacken me, I don't see why alcohol would take care of you. Ha. Ha."

"..."

"Sometimes I think about your store. It's a Bath and Bodyworks now, you'll be incensed to hear. I miss the purple siding and 'Lazy Ass' welcoming mat and... and the nice mountain ash siding. Thanks for listening about that."

"..."

"I think it's funny. How I was terrified that the wolves or the kanima or the witches and demons and poltergeists   would be the ones to kill you. But it wasn't my own good old-fashioned medieval black magic that did it."

"..."

"It was your own, Mr. Barlow."

"..."

"Just tell me that you fell up. I believe you did."

"..."

"Take a Razzle for the trip up."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Thank you."

"..."

"Thank you so fucking much."

"..."

"...You're _the_ meteor shower, Mr. Barlow."

**Author's Note:**

> Based off my home-town candy store. :)


End file.
